A soft snore drifted to her ears as she entered the adjoining room. Her violet baby blanket dragged along the hardwood while she tiptoed to the brass bed. Josephine's ginger brows wrinkled while standing at the empty side. "Maman," she whispered, tossing the pointelle knit on the bedding before carefully climbing onto the mattress.
"Quatre," Kitty mumbled, rubbing her cheek against the pillow. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"Je ne peux pas dormir," Josephine answered, inching closer.
"Lark?" the mother assumed. The toddler had tossed and kicked her way through her siblings' beds. She was surprised her middle daughter's patience with her wild bedfellow had lasted as long as it had.
"Mmhmm. Alouette kicked and pushed me outta bed."
Kitty suppressed a snicker from the use of the nickname. She'd lost track of how many spats the harmless name had caused between the sisters, since Lark always took offense to the French version of her name. "Baby, you can sleep with me," she told her, lifting the quilt with a soft smile at how eagerly her daughter burrowed under the covers. "You'll have to make room for Daddy when he gets back from playing checkers."
Josephine snuggled into her well-loved baby blanket and her mother's embrace, staring at the older woman as her eyes closed. "Maman, réveille-toi," she murmured, edging over until she was nearly nose-to-nose with her mother.
Kitty opened her eyes. She was unfazed by how close her little cuddle bug was to her as she met the five-year-old's concerned dark-brown orbs. "Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, Chérie?"
"Vivi ne dort pas."
"Vivi can't sleep?"
The child faintly lowered her head, running her fingertips over the fancy embroidery adorning the neckline of her mother's nightgown. "Non, Maman. She's upset."
"Merci de me l'avoir dit," she replied, pressing her lips to the middle of her sweet girl's forehead before slipping out of bed. A gentle smirk graced her lips as Josephine moved into her warm spot. "Fais de beaux rêves, dors bien, Quatre."
"Bonne nuit," Josephine yawned. "Je t'aime beaucoup."
"Je t'aime." Kitty pulled the violet blanket higher onto her daughter's shoulder before nonchalantly swaying into the darkness of the girls' room. She sighed at the sight of Lark's legs dangling off the double bed. She righted the slumbering moppet and dropped onto her firstborn girl's bed, staring at the stock-still redhead. Kitty arched a brow at the exaggerated snore rumbling from her daughter's petite frame. "I know you're not asleep, Vivienne Serena."
With a weighty sigh, Vivienne opened her eyes, glancing at her poodle as if Cadeau had ratted her out. "How'd you know?"
"For starters," Kitty began, eyeing the foot-tall beige bunny at the foot of the bed. She leaned over to pick up the stuffed animal and placed it in her lap. She touched the long, floppy ear of the stuffed animal, appreciating the floral-patterned cotton of the inner ear while remembering Matt had insisted on buying the rabbit for Vivienne's seventh birthday. "You have always wrapped your arms around your lapine then you curl yourself into the cutest little ball. Finally, you don't snore, mon petit amour."
"Oh," the girl sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees as she pulled them in to her chest. She buried her freckled face into the folds of her tented nightgown.
The tired mother released a sigh, "Start talkin', Baby. It won't be long before Noah will be callin' for me, and I want us to talk about whatever it is that's botherin' you." She reached over Vivienne's shoulder, gently rubbing her back. "Does it have anything to do with that fight you had today with that boy?"
Keeping her face hidden, she nodded. "Uh-huh."
"Can I see your pretty face?" Kitty tickled the back of her daughter's ears.
Vivienne shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, quietly giggling as she crinkled her tiny nose. "Maman," she whispered, "stop."
"Not until I can see those beautiful eyes." She continued to tickle under her girl's chin.
Exasperated, the miniature version of Kitty surrendered, "Okay, okay, Maman." Her watery eyes met her mother's calm pools of blue. "I wanna go home. Can we? S'il vous plaît."
"Soon, Vivi." Kitty tenderly stroked her finger over Vivienne's bruised jaw. "You ready to tell me what happened with Leo Burton? Your pépère has been awfully tight lipped, just like your uncle."
The eleven-year-old stared at the wall next to her bed. She murmured, "Leo teased Quatre for having deux pères then he told her that Lark wasn't her real sister…that she was only half a sister." She returned her gaze to her mother. "And Quatre defended herself the best she could. She told him that a person couldn't be half anything. He called her stupid and pushed her down. Quatre started crying, and I…well…"
Kitty's hand reflexively covered her mouth with her intake of breath. "A thirteen-year-old boy pushed a five-year-old girl?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Oui, Maman."
The irate mother folded her arms over her breasts. "I wish Uncle Festus had let you continue to throttle himandhis friends."
Vivienne snorted, covering her mouth as she chuckled. "Maman..."
"Well, Vivienne, sometimes a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do."
She tilted her head, smoothing her hand over Cadeau's silver coat while studying her mother. She didn't seem angry or disappointed that she'd brawled in the schoolyard. "Have you gotten into fights?"
"I have," Kitty admitted.
"But Pépère said it's not ladylike."
"Well, he's right, but he could have learned a few things from me over the years."
Her ginger brows wrinkled. "What do you mean?"
"You don't tell him I told you, Vivi, but the last time he fought was defending me against a wolfer."
"A wolfer?"
"A man who hunts wolves and sells the pelts to fur traders," Kitty explained. "Uncle Festus was a wolfer before he became your daddy's deputy. Anyhow, your pépère got knocked out, and I landed in a water trough. Some soldiers helped me out, and I got after the man with a whip until your daddy stepped in."
"What? Tu plaisantes, Maman!"
"Cross my heart…I'm not joking. We had some wild times in Dodge. Vivienne, you had good reason to fight. You were defending Quatre."
Swallowing hard, the girl asked, "Maman…can you explain to me this half thing? How can someone be half a sister?"
Kitty tenderly took her daughter's hands into her own. "A half sibling is a brother or sister that only has one biological parent in common. Do you understand?"
She nodded, her unruly waves falling into her eyes. "Luc and Josie only have you in common with me, Alexandre, Lark, and Noah." The girl studied their entwined hands while knocking her hair out of her eyes. "So really, Luc and Quatre are only my half siblings, too."
Speaking barely above a whisper, Kitty confirmed, "Technically, yes. But emotionally, no. Your daddy loves and cares for Luc and Josephine as if they were his babies, too. He gave all four of you his name, even when he didn't have to. Do you understand what I'm saying, Sweetheart?"
"Yes, Ma'am," Vivienne wiped the tears from her cheeks. "Daddy loves us all the same."
Grinning, Kitty cupped her cheek, "Yes, he most certainly does. So, no more fighting, understand?"
The girl nodded, quietly yawning."I understand, but Maman, I won't fight again unless another plouc upsets one of my siblings," she declared. Luc and Josephine would never be half anything to her.
Kitty held up the summer quilt. "I wouldn't expect any less, Vivi. Now get under your covers. I'm gonna tell you a little story about your papa and your daddy having a fight in our office in New Orleans."
Vivienne's mouth fell open, unable to envision the chivalrous gentlemen fighting each other. She snuggled close to her mother after she took her bunny, wrapping her arms around the plush toy. "Papa and Daddy?! When?"
Smirking, the older redhead answered, "You and Alexandre had just been baptized, so you were about seven-weeks-old. Daddy had come to visit us when your papa wasn't at home. He'd brought baby blankets and given me a carnation brooch for my birthday. That was also the day your papa came home with your four-foot-tall lapine and Alexandre's ours en peluche. It was tense between them, but I had to feed you. I went upstairs and left them downstairs. Can you believe those two men caught my good curtains on fire...?"
The bright-eyed blonde pushed through the batwing doors of the saloon, gasping in surprise at the sight of the mountain of a man with a pair of redheads and a baby carriage in front of the Dodge House. April Lavery hadn't believed her son at all when he'd filled her ears about his afternoon of meeting her former employer's children, but his black eye had proven he'd been in a fight. April smiled to herself, realizing why Sam Noonan and Hannah Cobb had been closed-mouthed about Kitty Russell. Evidently, she'd married the former U.S. Marshal and had become a mother. Unlike her, the auburn-haired beauty had her man, one that she could be sure of. From the state of her dress, Kitty seemed to be living a privileged life. To boot, the ex-saloon proprietress had kept her head-turning looks and figure. April didn't feel an ounce of jealousy in her bones at the woman's good fortune. She dashed toward the family as they crossed the street and waved an arm while shouting, "Kitty!"
As she stepped onto the boardwalk in front of the general store, Kitty turned her head, recognizing the slim blonde in a calico dress. "April!"
The big man watched the two women reunite while lifting the wicker carriage onto the wooden boards. A surge of memories rushed into his mind, recalling how Keith Lavery had saved him from being shot in the back, how he'd gotten the ne'er-do-well an honest job of scrubbing hides at Hubert's tannery, and how he'd hauled Keith off since he'd violated his probation. Matt shook his head, wondering if Lavery had ever made it to the Dakotas. He listened to the conversation, impressed with the way the women were catching up in a matter of minutes.
As the devoted older sister placed Noah back into the carriage, Vivienne grinned at the infant while he settled into the coziness of the cambric cushion. She gently pushed the stroller back and forth and returned her attention to the joyful reunion. "Daddy," she whispered, glancing up at him, "who's that lady?"
"April Lavery. She's the mother of the boy you met yesterday, and she used to work for your maman," he whispered.
"Oh," Vivienne murmured. It wasn't lost on the eleven-year-old that April Lavery was one of the few people her mother had been happy to see in Dodge City. She listened to the blonde agree to accompany her mother to Sam's homestead. Vivienne courteously smiled at the blonde as her mother introduced them.
April grinned at the petite redhead, understanding why her son hadn't been able to stop talking about the girl. "Honey, you look just like your mama," she complimented.
"All three of our girls take after Kitty," Matt said, winking at his wife while placing his hand on Vivienne's shoulder. "Vivi, I'll go to the livery stable for the wagon while you and Maman are in the store. You make sure Lathrop didn't forget a thing on the list."
"Yes, Sir," Vivienne answered, watching him lift his Stetson in farewell.
"Marshal," April spoke.
"Matt," he corrected.
The blonde's cheeks blushed as she offered an apology. "Would you give Benjamin his lunch? He slept late this morning and ran out the door without it. Please tell him I packed extra sandwiches since it's his day to muck out the stalls."
Matt grinned, pleased to know Lavery's son was learning hard work instead of schemes to get rich quick. "Sure," he said, taking the pail from April while she moved to take a gander at his youngest son. Matt had taken no more than five steps when he'd heard Cora Burton's furious screeching. He turned on his boot heel, marching over to protectively stand in front of his daughter. "Cora," he rumbled, interrupting the pudgy brunette's tirade while placing his hands on his belt. "Is there something I can do for you?"
"I expected better out of you because of your morals," she snapped, glaring at the giant. "I know her kind doesn't know how to raise children, especially boys."
"And you do?" Kitty hissed, seething from housewife's remark.
Matt crossed his arms over his chest, peering at the brunette. "Her kind, Cora? What do you mean?"
"Oh, don't play dumb with me, Dillon," Cora snapped. "You're well acquainted with her kind."
The giant felt his daughter attempting to edge around him. He glanced at her, giving her a look to stay out of the adult argument. "I'm not playing dumb at all. I know the kind of woman my wife is, and she's done a fine job raising our six children."
The middle-aged woman haughtily huffed while rolling her green eyes. "I suppose your boys didn't tell you what happened yesterday. Your sons picked a fight with Leo in the schoolyard."
"Alexandre and Luc did no such thing," the redheaded mother disputed. "Leo pushed my five-year-old daughter yesterday!"
"Leo would never!"
"He certainly did!" Vivienne shouted while hastily stepping around her father, grumbling as he pushed her behind him.
"He did not! Leo is a sweet and well-mannered boy."
"Sweet!" Kitty balked at the claim. "Well-mannered boys do not tease and shove little girls!"
"They don't at all. My son would never lay a hand on a girl," April interjected while handing the infant his handmade stuffed white-tail deer.
"Oh, hush! Your son doesn't have a father," Cora snubbed, returning her focus on the older redhead. "Your ruffians attacked my boy for no reason!"
Matt saw the flare of Kitty's nostrils and the tightening of her jaw along with the flush of Vivienne's cheeks and scrunched fists. The retired marshal swore under his breath, realizing he'd have to control both his daughter and his wife's tempers. He concentrated on the child since she was the most unpredictable of the two.
"Ruffians!" Kitty's voice rose as she heatedly fixed her eyes on the brunette's pale face.
"What did you call my brothers?" Vivienne tensely asked, nearly tripping as her father's leg suddenly stuck in front of her. She gripped the hem of his vest to keep herself from falling. "Daddy," she muttered.
He dropped his large hand on his daughter's shoulder to keep Vivienne at his side. "Ladies, let's calm down," he suggested, gripping his daughter's shoulder harder as she struggled to get free from his grasp.
Kitty briefly cut her eyes at her husband. She couldn't calm down no matter how much his blue eyes pleaded for her to. "Cora Burton, you need to get it through that thick head of yours that Leo started it and got what he deserved!"
"And I'd beat him again!" the little redhead declared.
"Kitty Russell, Leo did not des—" Cora stopped, realizing what the girl had said. "You?" she gasped, staring at the flyspeck of a redhead. She guessed that Leo probably outweighed Vivienne by forty or more pounds and was several inches taller. "You gave my son two black eyes?" Her mouth fell ajar as Vivienne confirmed with a proud nod.
"Oui, Madame. I shouldn't have lost my temper, but he pushed my baby sister and made her cry."
"You…" Cora stammered, shaking her head. She'd made a fool of herself because her son hadn't been honest. "Did Leo do that?" she shakily asked, noticing the discoloration on the child's jaw.
"Oui."
"He told me your brothers beat him. He didn't say anything about you."
"Alexandre tried to stop the fight, and Luc wasn't involved at all. My brothers are not ruffians like you say, but Leo…roi des cons," Vivienne proclaimed, shaking her head while keeping her eyes fixed on the woman.
"What does that mean?"
"It doesn't matter, Cora. You know the truth now," Matt said.
"King of idiots," Kitty translated, ignoring her husband's displeased grumble since he had tried to diffuse the situation. She moved closer to Vivienne, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers. Kitty relished the appalled expression on the biddy's face.
The pleased grin on the redhead's face made Cora's ears burn. Her green eyes scanned over the redheaded duo. "Of course, she's learned the unladylike behavior from you. I bet she'll turn out to be a—"
"Enough, Cora," Matt thundered, standing behind Vivienne while Cora cringed. He planted his hands on his daughter's shoulders. "I agree with my daughter. Leo is the king of idiots. He made a mistake. He underestimated his opponent. I imagine it is mighty embarrassing for a thirteen-year-old boy to get whooped by an eleven-year-old girl. I'd hate for any more embarrassment come to your family."
Cora nodded. "Yes, yes…I imagine so. Let's forget about the fight and this morning."
"That's a wonderful idea," Kitty graciously smiled, stepping closer to the woman. "I'll forget about it as well as I've forgotten about your days in Abilene," she whispered, taking pleasure in Cora's infuriated groan. She latched onto Cora's forearm to hold her in place. "Have a wonderful day, Cora."
The big man loosely held the reins, savoring the one-on-one time with his eldest daughter. He'd been impressed with her plans for Princesse since she believed the Thoroughbred filly would be special and surprised by how her young mind was on business by her proposal of putting Cheval Noir out to stud.
"Vivienne, what would you do with the fees?"
"I'd give the money to benevolent societies."
"You wouldn't keep any for yourself?"
She shook her head.
He smiled, slipping his arm around her shoulders. "We'll put it in the paper, and see how many are interested."
"Bien. Daddy, are we there yet?"
"We're close," he answered, wondering if his darling daughter was prepared for what was ahead of them on the southside of town. He didn't believe Vivienne had ever seen an area like Rathole Alley. Matt glanced at her as she swayed with the gentle movement of the loaded wagon. He chuckled at her sudden grip on his thigh as her petite body jolted from a patch of uneven terrain, reminding him that his city girl wasn't accustomed to rides in a wagon.
Vivienne relaxed her hold. As a warm breeze gusted, she tied the silken ribbons underneath her chin, securing her straw hat on her head. "Daddy, Benjamin Lavery is strange."
"What makes you say that?"
"He barely said a word to me. Alexandre and Luc said he talked them to death the other day."
"Sweetheart, I think he's smitten with you."
"Smitten?" Her voice and eyebrows instantaneously rose. "With me? Daddy, that's silly."
The father laughed at how her eyebrows formed a high arch of bewilderment. He breathed out a sigh of relief, grateful Vivienne was oblivious to her influence over the opposite sex for now. Matt had never entertained the thought that Vivienne might be a bit like him when it came to romance, but the time in Kansas had opened his mind in the ways his little girl was like him. She'd certainly inherited his slow to anger temperament until it came to loved ones. He might have to teach her his backhand blow.
"Daddy, are you disappointed in me?" she timidly asked. He hadn't said a word about her fight with Leo Burton.
"Whoa," he uttered, using the reins to gently pull back on the bay mare's mouth. Matt pushed his hat back to get a better look at Vivienne. "Sweetheart," he murmured, lifting her chin with his index finger. "Why would I be disappointed in you?"
"Because…" she mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "I fought like a boy."
"Vivienne, I'm not disappointed in you. Like me, you couldn't turn a blind eye to a wrong. I'm proud of you for standing your ground, but I'll admit I never expected Festus to tell me you'd thumped a boy 'til his ears rang like the Liberty Bell. I imagined Lark would be the scrapper in the family."
She giggled softly.
"I don't want you to make it a habit, Vivi."
"Yes, Sir. I promise I won't make it a habit." She leaned against him, jostling as the wagon lurched forward.
After what felt like an eternity to the girl, Vivienne saw abandoned covered wagons littering the outskirts of Rathole Alley. Her eyes took in the unfortunate surroundings as her father steered the wagon deeper into the neighborhood. Her nose wrinkled from the strong, unpleasant smells assaulting her senses. She pinched the bridge of her nose while she gazed at the derelict shacks with crumbling roofs, broken windows, and peeling paint. Vivienne's heart was her in throat as people appeared out of nowhere. "Daddy," she whispered while scooting closer to him, looping her arm through his.
"It's alright, Vivi," Matt assured, resting his hand over hers. "They're leery of us but won't hurt us. Not many come to this part of town."
Vivienne barely dipped her head, trying not to stare at the gaunt faces of the elderly in threadbare clothes and barefooted children playing in the trash covered dirt.
"They're just like you and me, Honey, but all they've known their whole life is hard times." He maneuvered the wagon in front of one of the nicer houses and set the brake, climbing off. "C'mon, Vivi," he beckoned, helping his daughter off the seat and onto the ground.
"Marshal!"
Vivienne held her breath since her father's hand instinctively moved to his gun as he spun to face the old man. She guessed the stranger with a bulldog mug and silver-white hair was in his early seventies. To her, he didn't seem like a threat.
Matt released his grasp on the leather holster. "Owney? Owney Tupper," he acknowledged with a grin as the man came closer. "By golly…what are you doing here?"
"I live here."
"What? You were in St. Louis." He recalled that Owney had stayed behind for a few months until he decided to move to Missouri to be closer to his daughter while she lived with her aunt and uncle.
"I was until Amity died."
Matt sucked in a breath at the news. His mind flashed with images of the sweet little girl with dark hair and eyes. "I'm sorry for your loss. What happened to her?"
Tupper somberly accepted the condolences, answering, "An accident. There wasn't much point in me staying in St. Louis without Amity."
"I understand, Owney."
"Now, what are you doing here? Who's the little one?"
"The little one is my daughter," Matt said while Vivienne untied the ribbons of her sun hat.
"You…you have a daughter?"
"He has three daughters," Vivienne revealed, stepping closer to the timeworn man. "I'm the oldest. I'm Vivienne, Mr. Tupper."
Owney grinned from ear to ear as he scrutinized the girl's fiery red tresses, beautiful freckled face, and sapphire eyes. "And I know exactly who your mother is. You're every bit of Kitty Russell. Now, Marshal…"
"Matt."
"Habit," Owney mumbled. "You haven't answered my question. What are you doing here?"
"Vivienne met Hazel Turner and wanted to gift her family with some things."
Owney's blue eyes scanned over the sacks and boxes in the wagon. "That's more than some things. Did you buy this, Vivienne?"
"Yes, Sir. I used my allowance."
Tupper was impressed by the girl's generosity. He pointed over Vivienne's shoulder. "Here comes Hazel," he warned, chuckling at how the five-year-old shouted with glee and tightly hugged the redhead. "Matt," he whispered, watching Vivienne grab a small sack. "Willa doesn't take to charity."
Matt sighed. "I know, Owney. I tried to tell Vivienne, but she wouldn't listen to me. Where is Willa?"
"She hasn't come back from the Bull's Head. I keep an eye on her girls while she's earning a living. Let's get this wagon unloaded before she gets back home."
"Alright," Matt replied, lifting a sack of seed. "I know you'll make sure this gets planted."
"I surely will."
Matt glanced at his daughter and the dainty brunette sitting on the rickety stairs of a nearby porch. "Vivi, don't go too far," he cautioned. He made sure to keep an eye on Vivienne while unpacking the wagon.
In the distance, Willa Turner shielded her throbbing eyes from the sun. Her lips pursed at the sight of the remarkably tall man that had ruined her life. She gathered her skirt in her fingers, marching toward the wagon. The blonde was ready to raise hell until she saw the sympathetic look on Owney Tupper's face.
Willa put her hand over her face, covering the evidence from her unsuccessful night.
"Willa, when are you gonna learn rolling a drunk is dangerous?"
"It looks worse than it is," she muttered, turning away from the giant's intense gaze. "I don't need your charity, Dillon. You did enough to me years ago. You can't make up for it now."
"My daddy's not trying to make up for the past," Vivienne piped up. "I wanted to show you that a Dillon doesn't always mean harm, Ma'am."
Willa stared at the auburn-haired child while listening to Owney spout off all that he'd carried into her house. She saw the happiness in her daughter's eyes as she sucked on the peppermint stick. She licked her busted, swollen lip and felt the sting, reminding her that she hadn't been able to get money for her family. Her cupboards were bare, and she had no more credit anywhere. Willa drew in a tired, defeated breath. She knelt in front of Vivienne and gently hugged her, whispering, "Thank you."
At the sound of a sob, the Creole lifted her head, watching the gentle giant embrace his wife as the retired physician released the man's wrist. Delia hoped the redhead would take comfort in the fact that Sam had gone peacefully in his sleep and surrounded by friends he considered family. She quietly said a prayer before rising from her seat in the corner. Delia went room to room, stopping the clocks to ward off bad luck. She covered all the mirrors, so his image wouldn't get captured in the glass. She turned every photograph face down to protect people from being possessed by the deceased. She returned to the living room and offered Kitty a soft compassionate smile. "Madame, you helped him find the peace he needed to let go."
Kitty sniffled, squeezing the woman's hand.